


Telltale Telepathy

by FanficIsLove



Category: Hat Films - Fandom, The Yogscast
Genre: AU, Angst, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, He hatches a plan that ends up..., Interestingly, M/M, Mind Reading, OR IS IT, Ross is sick of it, Smith can read minds, smornby, telepathy au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-10 04:58:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7831198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficIsLove/pseuds/FanficIsLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex Smith could read minds. And he had a terrible habit of looking into his best friend's thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Alex Smith could read minds. And he had a terrible habit of looking into his best friend's thoughts. Paranoid described him best, trying his hardest to catch Ross Hornby off guard. When he managed to, however, he saw nothing about secretly hating Alex's guts or anything of the nature, leaving him confused. He could have sworn he overheard his two friends, Ross and Chris, talking just a few days ago, talking of how Ross didn't like Smith; instead, he felt something much stronger. Thinking his fantasies had gotten the best of him, he finally concluded that the emotions Ross felt must have been negative. 

There was no doubt in Alex's mind that he found the shorter man to be attractive - devilish was an accurate word. With his ivory skin and contradictory yet complimentary jet-black spikes, no one in their right mind would have disagreed. His longing thoughts came to him at very inappropriate times: during live streams, sat beside him on planes, other places that others would deem totally platonic and not erotic whatsoever. Pretty much anywhere he couldn't take care of business, and almost always somewhere where it would have been too easy for Ross to notice his arousal. Nothing Smith could think of could clear his mind, all relating back to Ross in some inappropriate way, so he just had to wait it out until there was a private bathroom for him to sort himself out. There was something about his friend that seemed to mess with him, sending a warm pool down South. Perhaps it was the way his cool eyes bored into him, giving him very vivid ideas of what they would look like looking up at him, innocently whilst doing something oh-so sinful. Smith wasn't sure what it was, but Ross Hornby  _definitely_ made his body excited.

As these thoughts flooded back to him, he sat at his desk, hidden behind his green divider. Their office in YogTowers had proven much more useful for concealing any surprise boners he got, quite the contrary to their desks when the three of them lived together just a few years ago. Back then he had to escape to the bathroom as quick as possible before anyone noticed. There was one time, however, that Trott had caught sight of the bulge in his jeans and gave him a knowing look, slapping him on the arse as he walked hurriedly out of the room. Thankfully, Trott didn't seem to have told Ross, their normal banter resuming when he came back. But now, Smith's leg shook in frustration; one, for the editing program being fucking slow as shit and two, Ross sat on the couch without a care in the world, scrolling his thumb up the page, presumably browsing Twitter. Currently, Smith frankly couldn't be  _arsed_ editing any more videos, desperate to know what Ross was thinking. So, he stood from his desk chair and made his way over to sit beside Ross.

Plopping himself next to the man, he looked over his shoulder and saw that he was indeed on his Twitter feed, replying to Sjin and Sips in their jokingly heated debate. Alex sighed, slumping slightly and hanging his head, rubbing his forehead with the tips of his finger and thumb. Sometimes, telepathy was a  _bitch._

"Alright, mate?" Ross asked, eyes not moving from the screen, Smith sensed in his thoughts. For the telepathy to really, properly work, you had to be looking directly at the person. But it didn't shut off entirely when you looked away. No, you still had a weak connection to the person nearest to you's thoughts. He sighed again, heavier this time.

"Yeah. Just a bit strained at the moment." He explained weakly, rubbing his temples on either side of his face with his index and middle fingers. He heard Ross mumble something that sounded empathetic as he patted the redhead on his back before pulling away, returning his full attention back to his phone screen. Something about the way he was acting - the lack of sympathy or, really, anything at all - made Smith feel agitated. Maybe he was overreacting because of how bad his migraine was, but he was angry. In fact, more than that; he was  _pissed._  Just because perfect little Rossy wasn't a freak and he didn't have to deal with latching on to people's thoughts and feelings all the time, any negative emotions dragging him down also, didn't mean that he could be so heartless. He had to know what was going through Ross' head. He just _had_ to.

This was Smith's problem; no matter the sense in his head screaming for him to stop - that it wouldn't be right - he slowly sat up, pretending to lean backwards, covering his eyes with his crossed forearms, secretly peeking at the pale man beside him. Smith knew that it worked best looking into someone's eyes, but he couldn't exactly say  _'Hey, Ross. Just make eye really intimate eye contact with me for a minute or five, I want to look into your mind and see your deepest and most personal thoughts.'_ , could he? No, he just had to deal with whatever he could get like this. Still, it was enough to quench his curiosity.

 _'Sjin, you prick.'_ Was what he picked up on first. Then, it was  _'I wonder what I should have for lunch. Maybe I'll ask Smith if he wants Chinese.'_

While Alex would never call Ross boring, his thoughts were mundane as  _fuck_. He had heard better, more juicy stuff from the crazy, homeless guy who slept on one of the street corners, clutching a knife Smith was almost certain he wasn't allowed to have, that he passed daily to get to work. Though he was sure he would eventually pass out from the lifeless words Ross spouted inside his head, Smith had nothing better to do. So he continued, keeping his eyes focused on the corner of Ross', hoping he would turn his head just ever-so-slightly to the right so he could hear more. More of the same ideas floated around in his mind, almost sending Alex to sleep. Just as he was about to sit up and find something else to do, he heard something slightly different.

 _'God, Smith looks so fucking hot when he's half asleep.'_ Sent a shiver down his spine (and, admittedly, a warm sensation to below his belt),  _'I wonder how he looks during orgasm.'_

He shuffled awkwardly in his seat, unsure of how he should react. On the one hand, Ross had confessed that _yes, he would sleep with Smith if the opportunity arose somehow._ On the other hand, Ross might freak out that Alex was reading into his mind without his knowledge or consent. Deciding not to risk his chances, Smith took comfort in the fact that Ross, probably the most attractive guy Smith could name, found him to be good looking. He leaned back again, not daring to look away from Ross, as though if he did he wouldn't be able to listen in again, which he knew for a fact was not true. Still, his focus remained on the man sat with him, praying for him to start thinking dirty thoughts about him once more. Much to his dismay, the next words were not those that he wanted to hear.

 _'Oh, Smith. I know you're listening.'_ Made Smith jolt, jumping up from his position. Met by Ross' amused gaze, Smith cursed himself for giving it away so easily. He should have pretended as though he hadn't heard anything, or maybe that he had nodded off. But no, instead Smith had gone and made a show of himself.

 _Fuck._ He thought to himself, suddenly hoping that Ross wasn't going to reveal he had telepathy as well. Thankfully, he said nothing of the sort.

"Ah, so I was right?" He said and chuckled heartily. 

"I- uh, I'm..." Smith didn't know what to say. _I'm sorry? I'll go? **Do you want to fuck?**_ He wasn't sure. Feeling it would be better to let Ross lead, he shut up.

"You shouldn't listen in on my thoughts, you know, Alex." Something about the way Ross grumbled his name made him shiver in pleasure, "It's not nice." There was something underlying in Ross' voice that Smith couldn't pinpoint exactly, but was something similar to lust. 

"So you weren't thinking those things about me?" The words tumbled out of his mouth faster than he could stop them, desperation unintentionally thick in them. Hearing it in his own voice, he cowered back into his seat a little.

Ross pondered for a moment, "Would you have liked me to be thinking those things about you?" A teasing smirk played at his lips, like dangling a piece of meat in front of a small dog on a conveyor belt. Smith longed to wipe it off of his face, but felt stuck in place by Ross' penetrating eyes. The fluidity of his words made Alex blush and squirm in his seat, sure that what was happening was a dream.

He couldn't bring himself to answer verbally so he opted for nodding in response, head barely moving for fear of rejection.His shyness pulled Ross' lips into a tight, closed-mouth smile. 

"Smith." He rested a hand on Alex's upper thigh as he spoke, gentler but lower this time, "Look at me in the eyes."

Smith forced his eyes to lock with Ross' own. Immediately, whispered words hummed in Ross' voice wiggled their way into Smith's head. They were a jumbled up cacophony of Ross' voice, moaning and begging; demanding and ordering. 

 _'Kiss me.'_ One of them, the loudest, said. It sounded vaguely like an order to Smith and he wasn't willing to protest. He wasn't even sure if he could if he wanted to. Practically flinging himself at Ross, Smith lined up their bodies and kept eye contact in doing so. A sudden overwhelming wave of diffidence washed over him, making him wonder both what the hell he was doing, and why he wasn't doing it faster. In his conflict, Ross had gotten frustrated.

" _Smith,_ " His name came out as more of a moan than intended, "Are you even listening?"

Alex broke out of his daze, realizing that he wasn't hallucinating. Ross wanted this. Ross wanted _him_. Smith tuned out of his thoughts and leaned forward, bringing their lips together gently. Ross, however, clearly had other ideas as he tugged the front of Smith's shirt and fell backwards, landing with the latter pressed tightly against his chest, a _hmph_ erupting into his mouth. He ran his hands up and down the other's back, drawing him impossibly closer. They found his messy hair, pulling and running through the coarse strands, fulfilling one of Ross' long-awaited desires.  Smith laughed, parting their kiss and he took it as an opportunity to speak.

"Mate, just..." He exhaled wistfully, "Wow."

Ross smiled and pulled Smith back in by the hair. Whilst not knowing what was going to happen exactly, they could be sure that it was  _not_ editing.

 _'I guess telepathy isn't that bad.'_ Ross thought, blushing when Smith poked him in the side in jest, having forgotten that he could hear every word he thought.

 _'Shut up.'_ He used Smith's hair to maneuver them into a position with Ross peppering kisses all over Smith's face, partly to try and prevent him from remembering his embarrassing thoughts long enough to make a witty remark about them. Unfortunately, his plan didn't work.

"You're so cute." He mumbled out of his newly freed, reveling in the damp marks Ross left in his wake across on his cheeks and nose. Ross let out a exaggerated whine.

"I am not cute." He pulled his head away, avoiding Smith's gaze, afraid what he might hear if he did. A frown set itself on Ross' swollen and slightly red lips.

"You definitely are." Smith beamed his classic, stupid grin. He moved the both of them so he straddled Ross' lap, with the other leaning his back against the arm of the grey chair. Smith couldn't help but notice the look on Ross' face, with his mouth turned down into the most adorable sad face Smith had ever seen. Ross felt Smith's eyes hot on his face before he laid his head down on top of the former, smile still wide on his face in doing so.

"Stop it." Ross ordered.

"Stop what?" Smith asked, confused.

"Stop thinking about how cute I am." Ross shook his head.

"How did you-" Smith began.

"I don't have to be telepathic when you're so predictable." He explained and placed a chaste kiss on the top of Smith's head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the incident (chapter 1), Smith and Ross don't speak. That is, until Ross gets cornered by a creepy woman in a bar.

Smith sat with his co-workers (Lewis, Ross, Trott and Sips) in the corner of a restaurant they dragged him to after they all finished their work that day. The table they had been given was decorated with an aesthetically pleasing scented candle and bunting strung across it, just a little too low for Smith being so tall. Instead of complaining, he just hunched over slightly and joined in with the conversation Sips and Trott were having.

“…yeah, and it went everywhere. It was a total mess.” Trott said. Smith, having missed the first part, thought it an appropriate time for an inappropriate joke.

“What are we talking about? Trott’s dick?” Smith spoke through gritted teeth, “I bet it did, you raunchy bastard.”

Trott, not knowing of Smith’s ability to read minds, thought, _‘Fucking hilarious, Smith. Bravo.’_ and visibly rolled his eyes.

Smith chuckled, much to Trott’s surprise as he didn’t think he had said anything particularly funny, and listened to Sips’ chatter loosely, not really being all-too interested in the words coming out of his mouth. In all honesty, Smith just wanted a distraction from the man opposite.

Ross had barely spoken to him since their steamy make-out session a few days ago (and a little more, but Smith didn’t like to think about that too much, lingering thoughts of Ross were a problem to start with) and he was beginning to think he did something wrong. In all fairness, they had been fairly busy with their own projects and participating in different videos for other members of the Yogscast, but something in Smith’s gut told him it was more than just chance that was driving them apart. Before he had any more time to wallow in his own thoughts, the food arrived, just in time for Smith to miss the longing thoughts Ross accidentally let slip.

* * *

 

About an hour later, everyone had finished eating and had turned to drinks instead. At first, they had stuck together, sending one person up to the bar at a time and not conversing with anyone they didn’t know. Slowly, they began to disperse, leaving only Lewis, Smith and Ross sat at the table. If there was something Smith really did not want, it was to be left alone; or worse, at a silent table with Ross. So, to combat this fear, he arose, drink in hand, and sauntered off to God-knows where.

Looking for nowhere in particular, he settled in a relatively quiet spot near the bathrooms and took a swig of the repulsive beer he held. Not even a minute passed before he saw Ross grab his empty glass and wander to the bar, ordering a refill. In a flash, a girl appeared before him and bunched his fingers into his grey shirt, pulling him closer. Smith would have normally looked away and minded his own business, but the frantic look in Ross’ eyes as he searched for help was disturbing him greatly. Piercing, afraid eyes found Smith’s almost instinctively and his voice echoed in the taller’s ears.

_‘Help me!’_

The words cried echoed in Smith’s skull, making him unable to leave Ross without stepping in. He pushed his way through the crowd that seemed to be making a wave with their overheated bodies and finally could see the woman’s features up close as she leaned up to kiss Ross’ neck, making him nearly bend over the counter to escape.

Her face sagged in a way that showed her age immensely, and the several inches of her greying roots gave her away even more. The sweat on her skin shone in an inexplicable way. She wore a dress far too short for anyone of any age with skinny heels that Smith would bet money on hurt like hell if she trod on you while wearing them. Smith cleared his throat, making her pull back from Ross slightly.

“And who are you?” Her voice was threatening, but somehow sultry at the same time as she questioned Smith like his mother.

“Can you back off, please?” Smith didn’t care if he was being unpleasant; the woman was making Ross gravely uncomfortable, and that was enough for him to get unbelievably pissed off.

“You didn’t answer my question.” She pursed her lips, the enticing tone completely evaporated from her croaky voice.

Before Smith got a chance to retort with some clever, witty remark, words went through his head that he couldn’t believe he was hearing.

 _‘Tell her you’re my boyfriend.’_ Ross told him deftly. Smith couldn’t have thought of a better excuse himself.

“I’m his boyfriend. So I’d say it’s in your best interests to leave.” Smith warned. Still, the woman continued.

“Oh please. Anyone could say that.” She rolled her eyes at him, only adding fuel to the fire burning inside of Smith, “You’re just jealous I got the cutest guy in the club.”

This woman didn’t know when to quit, and boy did it get Smith riled up. He didn’t have a chance to think what he was doing as he knocked her aside and pulled Ross in by his shirt, eliciting and promptly cutting off a squeal from the shorter man. Soon after, though, Ross had his hands on the back of Smith’s head and his pale fingers tangled in his hair.

The woman harrumphed and murmured something that Smith didn’t care to listen to too intently, enveloped in the passion strung between himself and Ross. A good minute or two passed before they broke apart, triggered by Smith collecting his thoughts and wondering what the hell he was doing.

“Listen, mate-“ Smith tried to bring himself to say the words – he really did – but they refused to come out. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t say he was sorry, because he wasn’t. He wasn’t sorry at all. In fact, he was glad. It was an excuse to kiss Ross; to get his feelings out there without fear of rejection, as he could play it off as part of a big act. But he wasn’t acting.

“Smith.” Ross spoke calmly, though his face was flushed, “Look at me. In the eyes.”

Cautiously, Smith met Ross’ eyes and found words floating around in his head that he would have sworn were part of his fantasy, had it not been for Ross’ flustered expression and hopeful gaze.

_‘Will you date me? For real, this time.’_

Nodding his head almost too eagerly, Smith lunged forward and embraced Ross with everything he could. When they broke apart, they intertwined fingers and strolled casually around the bar, stopping to speak to whomever they wanted.

After all, if anyone tried something like before, they most definitely had a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk idk idk  
> let me know if this is any good/if you want more bc i have no idea  
> i go back to school tomorrow yay


End file.
